As we disembark, we are accosted by a crowd of "Beach Boys", young men whose sole purpose in life is to convince tourists that (a) the accommodation they are selling is the BEST in Zanzibar and usually also (b) that they are actually escapees from a New York hip-hop/rap community, who have recently fled the boroughs of Manhattan together with their clothes, gestures and accents. As fate would have it, the Beach Boy who chooses us (remember: there are no coincidences in life - everything happens for a reason) is Hussein, and today he is selling the Annex Malindi Guest House.
After carefully checking The Bible, we agree to follow our saviour. First, we must have our passports checked at "Immigration" [though the office resembles a farm stall that has run short of stock and stationery without anyone noticing], and our bags checked at customs [similar in some ways to the comprehensiveness of Israeli airport security standards, but different]. Our official duties done, we traipse behind Hussein in the oppressive heat & humidity of the Zanzibar summer. The Annex Malindi Guest House is a mere 100m from the dock, and we are quickly booked in for the following few days.
The rooms are clean and sparse and, unsurprisingly, BLUE. We have the top floor "penthouse" with a fan. The air in Zanzibar is unbelievably humid and hot, and our first venture out into the late afternoon sun is a tough one. We visit a restaurant.
At this point, I am getting really very tired just thinking of the heat, so I am switching to short descriptions and LOTS of pictures.